


Gay Twist With A Backside Thing

by bzarcher



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Commissioned fic, F/F, Hot Tub, Implied Sexual Content, Making Out, Making peace, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Angst, Mostly Fluff, Past Emily / Lena, Skiing, Snowboarding, biathlon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 00:43:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17070275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bzarcher/pseuds/bzarcher
Summary: After a tragedy, Overwatch and Talon agree it's time to negotiate, but Tracer wants to just work on her snowboard tricks and try to relax.That plan may not work out quite the way she expected, but there's always something to be said for starting over.





	Gay Twist With A Backside Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rhitta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhitta/gifts).



After almost three years of helping Winston and the rest of Overwatch after the Recall, Lena Oxton, currently doing business as ‘Tracer’, desperately needed a vacation.

She’d never have expected getting one because of _Talon_ , though.

After the Russian army had decided it was better to have a radioactive crater in their country and no omnium than a relentless omnium and no country, the entire world had seemed to take a step back from the brink, shocked at how the “Second Crisis” had escalated under everyone’s nose.

Peace (or at least detente) seemingly broke out overnight, with nearly every group who had been caught up in recent conflicts deciding that maybe it was time to sit down and talk before another tragedy took place.

Then, to their great surprise, Reaper _\- Gabriel Reyes -_ had come, unarmed, to deliver a request for a truce. A request from the senior members of Talon (who had apparently gone through a bit of an internal shakeup of their own) to meet with Winston and anyone else he felt would be appropriate at a gorgeous ski resort just on the French side of the Alps.

After some consideration, Winston, Angela, Mei, and Fareeha had decided to accept and represent Overwatch, while Lena, Genji, and a few of the younger members tagged along to enjoy the slopes and weigh in if needed.

Which brought her here, bright and early, her usual gear exchanged for a heavier ski jacket beneath her accelerator, snow pants, heavy boots, and a bright orange cap straining to contain her spiky ‘do.

Her new snowboard rested on the seat next to her, the raw metal finish of the bindings standing out against the sleeker dark grey deck.

Lena looked down as she began to cross over the slopestyle course, trying to pick out a route for her first run.

_Don’t need to go crazy on jump tricks for the first one. Get a feel for the course, try a few easy jibs, try ducking around those boxes…_

The course turned beneath the path of the lift, and she saw how it crested into a set of ramps, the shaped snow promising a brilliant launch into the air for someone daring enough to take the chance.

 _Well, maybe a_ few _jumps on the first one. Good to keep in practice, right?_

The lift reached the peak a few minutes later, and Lena let out a blissful sigh as she shouldered her board and walked across the pristine powder, reaching up to pull her goggles down into place before stepping into the starting gate.

The bindings locked to her boots with a firm _clack_ as she stepped onto the board, shifting her weight this way and that to get a feel for everything before she reached out to slap the _START_ button.

A red light came on at the top of the little shack’s launch chute, and the red and white striped gate lifted out of the way.

Lena wrapped her gloved fingers around the gate’s crash bars, pulling herself up to the line.

A heartbeat later the light turned yellow, and she started to slide herself back and forth, building up some momentum for a strong launch.

After a few more seconds the light turned green, and a bright horn signaled she was clear to go, and she shot from the gate with a whoop of delight.

The board slid beautifully over the snow, gathering speed as the wind whipped around her. Lena could feel the air biting into her exposed cheeks, but as her mouth turned up in a fierce grin she was too happy to care, her aches, frustrations, and uncertainties falling away as she cut down the slope.

A little hop carried her across a log rail, her foot coming down to drag the board into a lip slide, then a hard stomp as she reached the end of the obstacle to twist into a spin.

“HAH!”

Lena couldn’t stop herself from a laugh as she pulled off the trick, the nose of the board rising as she shifted her weight onto her back foot.

She navigated around two boxes, then stiffened on the board as she slid up the side of a small pipe run, leaning forward to grab the nose of the snowboard as she left the pipe, then tucking her arms in and crouching as she build up more speed, that gorgeous ramp she’d seen on the way up beckoning to her.

“WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Lena kicked up to launch herself into a spinning twist as she flew into the air, wrapping her arms around herself as she pulled her legs up to finish the trick, then flipping herself over as gravity began to call her back to the ground, bracing herself for the landing, when a sound like a thunderclap shattered her concentration.

**_BLAM_ **

She hit the ground hard, board twisting under her feet—

**_BLAM_ **

Snow slapping her in the face and crusting her hair as she rolled—

**_BLAM_ **

Arm twisting underneath her the wrong way, the all too familiar wrench of a dislocation—

**_BLAM_ **

Adrenaline spiking as she pulled herself back in time instinctively, arm snapping back into true, kicking the board up and out as she hit the slope this time to stall herself, ending her run with a fountain of snowy wake as she turned towards the sound—

**_BLAM_ **

Dropping into a crouch as the last shot echoed through the trees, Lena’s chest heaved as she tried to get herself under control, a sudden jolt of fear running through her as she realized she _recognized_ the sound of that gun.

Leaving the cleared and marked course was probably a terrible idea, but as she wove between the trees, Lena had to admit that had never stopped her before.

* * *

The sound of another set of five shots helped guide her as she navigated the hillside, and it wasn’t long before she was breaking through the treeline to head for what must have been part of the biathlon course, just in time to see a lone skier pulling into the next shooting area, a distinctive rifle on her back.

“OI!” Lena put on more speed as she cut onto the track of the course, and the woman paused in her preparations to shoot, her cross country poles sticking out of the ground. “What the _hell?!_ ”

Widowmaker raised her voice just enough to carry, her tone still dry as the powder they were standing on. “I am training. Surely you know this is a sport.”

She looked the part, Lena had to admit. Deep blue boots clipped into purple skis, rich purple and black skiing pants that hugged her legs and hips, and a pink, white, and sort of purple-y magenta jacket that was open just enough to tease the taller woman’s cleavage, finished up by a white scarf, a ski helmet to match her jacket, and wide gold lensed goggles not so different from her own.

_She looks pretty cute with her hair down like that, actually._

Still, no matter how dead fit Widowmaker was, she wasn’t going to let it distract her.

“Sure, but it’s a sport you’re supposed to use a .22 for, not that bloody thing!” She pointed to the Widow’s Kiss, the high powered weapon locked into the sniping configuration, for a bit more emphasis. “You’ll wreck the range with that!”

Widowmaker scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “I was not aware you helped manage the resort.”

Lena could feel heat in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold and wind. “Well, no, but -”

Widowmaker held up a hand, interrupting her. “Since my family were one of the original investors in _Les Toiles_ , I happen to _know_ who manages this place.”

“Uh. Well.”

“Which _means_ ,” Widowmaker went on over her floundering, “that the targets on this course have all been reinforced.”

Just to prove her point, Widowmaker slipped her rifle off her shoulder and brought it up to shoot in one smooth motion and fired, the rifle’s report making Lena’s ears ring for a moment, but when she looked downrange the first target had been properly struck, the little flag popping up from the impact, and no sign of it being the worse for wear.

“Ok, fine! Warn a girl before you do that, would you?”

She couldn’t see Widowmaker’s eyes through her visor when she was angled to face downrange, but Lena was pretty sure from the little bob of her head that she was rolling her eyes.

“ _Desolée."_

Lena’s mouth set in a scowl at the mocking apology. “Anyway - you’re not the only person out here, you know? The sound of you popping off made me think I was about to get attacked! Wrecked my whole run! Did you even think about that?”

Widowmaker squeezed off three more shots before she replied, three more flags going up in response.

“...I admit that I did not think anyone else would be on the slopes so early in the morning.”

Lena waited to see if anything else would come, but Widowmaker just followed her not-really-an-apology by taking out her final target, stowing her rife, and picking up her ski poles before she began to stride and skate back to the course, her mouth set in concentration until she’d passed by where Lena stood and turned herself onto the track.

“You will find the ski lift is to your left, and a few hundred meters down the hill.”

* * *

“The _nerve_ ,” Lena seethed over a mug of cocoa back at the chalet that Overwatch was using for their stay. “The absolute _cheek_ of that bitch!”

Angela gave a neutral little ‘hmmm’ as she added a few more marshmallows to the slowly melting pile atop her own mug. “That course is open to anyone who wishes to use it.”

Lena snorted. “Sure. But she could have used the _proper_ equipment. Bet the resort would bend over backwards to help Miss _‘I_ **_know_ ** _who manages this place’._ ”

“She did make sure the resort was equipped to handle it,” Angela pointed out.

“I left my guns at home,” Lena countered. “So did you, so did Winston, so did everyone else! What if this is a setup after all, eh? What…” A twist of fear crawled up her throat, and Lena had to put the mug down before she said more. “What if one of you is the next one on her list, and I can’t stop her again?”

“Oh, _Lena_ ,” Angela put her own drink down so she could wrap her in a hug, letting Lena bury her head into the shoulder of her creamy wool sweater. “If something were to happen - and I sincerely believe that our meeting here is genuine - but _if_ something were to happen, it would not be your fault, and we would not blame you.”

Lena felt a large warm hand settle on her shoulder as Winston joined the conversation.

“For what it’s worth, I did ask Maximilien about the fact that Widowmaker had her rifle here. He confirmed she’s only using it for practice, and apparently she agreed before arriving that all of her ammunition would be kept in the weapons locker at the start of the biathlon course.”

She nodded, uncurling a bit to pat his hand. “Thanks, big guy.”

“Of course.” Winston made his way back to the overstuffed couch he’d been using as a seat, picking up a croissant to nibble at while he spoke. “I do agree with Angela that Talon is sincere about de-escalating right now. They’re not really being clear about what happened to Akande Ogundimu -”

“And if he’s gone I’m not going to shed a tear,” Lena admitted as she let Angela get back to her drink.

“No,” Winston ducked his head. “But regardless, Max, Reap...er, _Gabriel,_ and the rest haven’t always been thrilled about what we’ve insisted on, but they are willing to negotiate.”

Lena finally drank a bit more of her cocoa before she asked a question that had occurred to her. “Is she in the talks with you? Widowmaker, I mean.”

Angela shook her head. “As I understand it, she’s not considered a member of their negotiating party. She’s just here to relax - much like you.”

That made Lena pause, and she finished her cocoa while she tried and failed to take that on board. “...huh.”

Lena went back out for a few more runs on her board later that afternoon, but the only gunfire she heard was the much softer, quieter reports of the rimfire rifles that were normally supposed to be used for the biathlon. It wasn’t _bad_...but it lacked a little bit of the thrill of being the first one up and out, skimming over the pristine snow.

 _Tomorrow,_ she decided as she made her way back to the chalet to warm up. _First thing._

She’d just finished getting her jacket off and siding the accelerator back around her shirt when Angela came out from kitchen.

“Oh good, you’re back. How were the slopes?”

“Good fun,” Lena admitted with a grin. “Got a bit crowded on a few of the runs and pipes, though.”

Angela nodded. “It seems like a very lovely resort. Hopefully I’ll have the chance to enjoy some skiing myself soon.”

Lena’s eyebrows rose as she put two and two together. “Makin’ progress, then?”

“We had a bit of a breakthrough.” Angela’s smile was...well. _Angelic_ , really. “I think there’s been some very encouraging progress. I wanted to catch you after you’d finished for the day - we’ll be having a cocktail reception tonight.”

“Oh no,” Lena’s face fell. “You’re not going to make me wear a dress again, are you?”

Angela giggled as she shook her head. “No, we learned our lesson after the last time. But please do make an effort to dress up.”

Lena considered what she’d brought with her, and what she might find at the shops in town if she legged it, then nodded. “Suppose I can manage. Least I can do if there’s going to be free drinks.”

“There will be _hors d'oeuvres_ for everyone as well.”

“Well, that sounds posh.”

* * *

As it turned out, ‘posh’ was an excellent way to describe the scene when Lena arrived at the private lounge at the main resort that had been reserved for their use tonight.

The wide windows at the back looked out over the resort, the different courses and slopes gleaming beneath their lights, and a new front had arrived to bring in fresh snow that drifted lazily down, adding an extra gleam to the trees and hills.

Plush red carpet that was probably an inch thick covered the floor, and several tables had been set up around the perimeter, with some extra space cleared for the bar.

A piano about the size of her first quarters at Gibraltar dominated most of one wall, and an omnic in a white suit and silver tie was playing something classical that she knew she recognized, but couldn’t put a name to, and uniformed waiters moved between the various members of Overwatch and Talon to offer food and refresh drinks.

Lena wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so out of place.

 _Still_ , she thought as she gave her reflection in the mirror one last going over, _at least I look the part._

She’d gotten a nice pair of black slacks, a deep burnt orange turtleneck, and a black blazer cut so she could wear the accelerator with it and not screw up the lines, some proper shiny dress shoes, and Lena had even managed to get her hair trimmed and styled a bit before she’d made her way back, just a few minutes fashionably late.

Lena took a deep breath and scanned the room.

Winston was standing near the piano, speaking to Reyes and a man in a white suit that she vaguely remembered as being connected to Vishkar. There seemed to be some awkwardness in the conversation, but the more she read her friend’s body posture it seemed more of the ‘help I don’t really know how to do small talk’ sort than the ‘please get me out of here’ kind, so she left him to it.

The sound of Angela’s laugh caught her attention, and she spotted her friend looking radiant in a shimmering gold dress, trading some kind of joke with a giggling Mei-Ling while O’Deorain stood nearby in a sober black suit, looking as if she wasn’t quite sure if she should be joining her former colleagues in their amusement.

Brigitte, Hana, and Lúcio were sitting on a little cluster of couches with Sombra in the other corner, she spotted ‘Max’ in some sort of conversation with Fareeha and Zenyatta, and that left one person unaccounted for.

_Oh. There she is._

Widowmaker was near Winston, but clearly not part of the conversation. She seemed to mostly be listening to the piano from where she stood apart, a glass of red wine in her hand.

She’d never seen the sniper dressed up like this, and she had to take a moment to process it all. Hair up and pinned into a bun with a few locks cascading off the back, a twinkle of gold studs in her ears, and a thin gold necklace accented with larger teardrops against the swell of her bust. A backless dress in purple and accented in black that complimented her figure and showed off a good bit of her well toned arms and shoulders, and surprisingly modest looking black flats, compared to the ridiculous fuck me heels she normally wore into combat.

It made Widowmaker look...softer, Lena supposed. More human than she’d really ever seen the other woman before.

Some part of her social instincts said that she ought to go up, say hello, try to make some kind of conversation so the other woman didn’t have to feel so isolated in the middle of a party, but her lingering mistrust turned Lena towards the bar instead.

She picked up a martini for the hell of it, and gave an appreciative sip before slipping a tip to the barman and making her way towards the group on the couch.

“Nice of you to finally make it,” Brigitte teased. “We were going to start placing bets on if you’d show.”

Lena snorted as she found an open cushion on the other side of Hana, then instantly regretted it as she realized it put her face to face with Sombra. “Well, nice to see you’ve got so much faith in me, luv.”

Sombra turned her head to the side a bit, the light catching her implants as she gave a surprisingly friendly smile. “Hey, for what it’s worth I told them you’d make it. Whatever else I could say about you, you’re not the kind of girl who backs down from a challenge.”

“Aw. Thanks, I think.”

Sombra winked, then gave her a wolfish look. “Now that said, a martini? _Seriously?”_

Lena let the others laugh as she took another sip, then stuck out her tongue. “‘S a cocktail party, innit? This is a cocktail. And it’s good!”

“It’s just so... _stereotypical_ ,” Sombra countered with a wave. “Not that you aren’t rocking the Bond thing, but still.”

Lena raised an eyebrow as the others began to snicker. “Are you _shitting_ on me?”

Sombra snickered, and raised her glass (a margarita, Lena realized as she got a whiff of the lime. Speaking of stereotypes!) “Maybe a _little_. But getting under people’s skin is kind of what I do, remember?”

“Oh, do I.” Lena rolled her eyes, but she still brought her glass up to tap Sombra’s in a little toast.

“Besides, I had to get a _little_ back,” Sombra continued as she gestured towards the other side of the room. “Seems like you’re the only one who can get a rise out of my favorite spider lately.”

Lena blinked. “Wait. What?”

Sombra’s brow furrowed as she put her drink down. “Did you not _know?_   I mean...you two always seem to have that... _thing_ going on.”

Lena knocked back her martini rather than try to answer that, struggling not to cough as the vodka burned down her throat. “Hating each other is _not_ a thing.”

Now Brigitte leaned in, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I dunno. Sometimes with the way Papa and Reinhardt act, you might think it is.”

“And you two _do_ have a thing,” Lúcio agreed.

“Seriously?!”

All four of the others nodded as they spoke, nearly in perfect unison. “Seriously.”

Lena looked down into her empty glass. “I...have no idea what to think about that.”

“Trust me,” Sombra said with a soft chuckle, “neither does she. But you get under her skin like nobody else. We always know when you two have been getting into it.”

“You get _seriously_ aggro after tangling with her,” Hana agreed between bites of the canapés she’d snagged.

“...huh.” Lena stood with a shake of her head, and before she realized what had happened one of the passing waiters had relieved her of the empty glass. “Well. Guess I need a fresh drink.”

She was pretty sure Hana said something as she walked back to the bar, but her head was still a bit too full of...everything.

She passed on another martini and ordered a straight scotch, barely tasting the first sip as she looked for a spot where she could do some thinking.

There was no access to a balcony or somewhere she could get some fresh air, but she finally managed to slip into a quiet corner by the window, losing herself in the snow drifting past and not really tasting the whisky.

She was so absorbed in trying to process what she’d learned that she didn’t notice Widowmaker approaching until the other woman’s smoky voice entirely derailed her train of thought.

“I am surprised you are alone tonight.”

“Wha?” Lena couldn’t even blame the alcohol she’d had for the way she’d been taken off guard, knowing she must have made quite a sight turning around so quickly that she nearly lost her balance.

Widowmaker’s expression was hard to read, but Lena was familiar enough with her usual adversary that she thought she could see a bit of concern in her eyes. “I would have expected you to bring your...friend. The redhead.”

In her current state it took a lot to keep that punch in the gut off of her face, but Lena still felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her for a moment. “Oh.”

She fiddled with the glass in her hand before stealing a quick sip, trying to wet her suddenly parched throat. “Emily and I...well. It…” She shook her head. “I suppose you’d say we’re on a bit of a break. Have been for a few months, now.” _If you’d call most of the past year a few months, anyway._

Before Widowmaker could say anything, she raised her free hand, gesturing towards the window. “It’s not her fault. She tried. We _both_ tried. But with the recall, with the little scraps turning to a full blown war, with everything…” She shrugged, and left the rest unsaid.

Some part of her expected Widowmaker to gloat, remembering the way the woman had laughed beneath her on that King’s Row rooftop, but she just nodded with a look of sympathy and understanding.

“This life is not easy. Trying to keep a relationship alive when it demands so much…”

Lena found she couldn’t quite look her in the eye. “I suppose you’d know from both sides of the coin.”

Widowmaker hummed, taking another sip of the wine that lingered at the bottom of her glass. “For what it is worth...I am sorry to hear it.”

The genuine tone of apology was a shock, particular after their exchange on the biathlon course.

“I…” Lena swallowed, her brain in vapor lock as she tried to kick it back to life. “Thank you. That’s...I mean I never expected…you’re the _last_ person I would have ever thought...” She shook her head, so many emotions flooding through her. “Agh, bugger it!” She turned back, meeting Widowmaker’s eyes and enjoying the little bit of shock and the faint hint of a purplish blush on her face.

“Look...we’ve got _so much_ between us. I can’t just forget it, and I know you can’t either, but...can we try to start again, here?”

She put out her free hand, and found a smile fit surprisingly well. “Lena Oxton.”

Widowmaker blinked a few times, then nodded with a little smile of her own as she took her hand. “Amélie Lacroix _née_ Guillard.”

Lena snorted as they shook. “Oh my god, you are _so_ posh.”

Amélie’s lips quirked in a smile of her own. “A circumstance I am afraid I had little control over.”

“You can’t even stop, can you?”

That got a light little laugh. “I would not even know where to begin to try.”

As they began to talk, neither of them noticed Brigitte and Sombra exchanging a little high five.

* * *

Even with a bit of a hangover rattling her brain, Lena dragged herself out at the crack of dawn to hit the slopes again, the brisk air and fresh powder exactly what she needed to help wake up and enjoy the day.

Now that she was expecting the sound of the Widow’s Kiss blasting away at the range, it didn’t throw her off the run, and even if a part of her was always going to associate that sound with being at risk, the surprising turn of conversation last night had really helped settle her with the idea of Widowmaker - of _Amélie_ \- being out on the course.

In fact, Lena had to admit as she slid into the finish area for the slopestyle run, it made her a bit curious about just how Amélie was doing.

_It’ll probably take her, what, a half hour or so to complete a run? Maybe twenty minutes if she’s doing a short course?_

She smiled as an idea began to form.

_Yeah. Time for one more run myself, and then we’ll see what happens._

The air on the big ramp was just as fantastic as she’d hoped today, and she managed to play with a couple of backside spins and a grab kick before landing and holding her balance, pumping her fist as she grinned her way down the final slope.

Feeling almost light as if she was blinking herself around the snow, she pulled her boots from the binders and stomped the board up into her hand, singing wordlessly to herself as she made her way off the course and headed for the closest warming house to the biathlon field.

By the time she’d deposited her board and picked up a cup of cocoa for herself and a mocha for Amélie, Lena barely made it to the start of the course in time to watch Amélie pushing herself towards the finish line on her final lap of the morning, arms surging powerfully back and forth, snow clinging to the dangling locks of her hair, mouth set with determination beneath her goggles.

She was quite simply breathtaking, and after the previous night, Lena couldn’t quite stop thinking of her more and more as a woman she might be attracted to than a dangerous enemy.

A horn blew as Amélie’s skis hit the finish line, and the scoreboard next to the stands updated: **41:02.21**

Lena put the drinks down on the gate and applauded as Amélie made her way over. “Shame you can’t talk to the olympic committee. Pretty sure you’d make the team with those sort of times.”

Amélie snorted as she set her poles in the snow, lifting her ski goggles out of the way so Lena could see the amusement in her eyes despite her dry tone. “Regrettably, being considered a terrorist would disqualify me.”

Lena gave a little nod of acknowledgement as she picked up the coffee and offered it across the gate. “Suppose all the stuff they did to you might be considered a performance enhancement, too.”

Amélie’s lips quirked in what might have been a little smile. “Perhaps.” Her hand came up, but she held out her palm rather than take the drink. “Carry it for me. Let me take my poles and skis to the warming house.”

“Could say _please_ ,” Lena snarked, but she pushed the gate open before picking up her own cup, and nudged it closed once Amélie was through.

“Fine,” Amélie said as she began to ski more sedately towards the house. “ _Please_ let me put my skis away.”

Lena was so caught off guard by the joke that she couldn’t stop herself from laughing as she jogged to keep up.

* * *

“This is good,” Amélie observed as she sipped from her cup, the Widow’s Kiss leaning against the side of the house as they sat on what was either a very small roof or a cozy balcony, one leg tucked under the other.

Lena grinned as she gestured out, her legs dangling over the edge. “You talkin’ about the coffee or the view?”

Amélie’s eyes sparkled. “Who says it cannot be both?”

Lena tried to hide her blush with another sip from her cup. “OK, that was pretty smooth.”

“ _Everything_ I do is smooth,” Amélie said haughtily as she leaned back against the stone and wood, and Lena was pretty sure the fact it showed off a bit more of her chest beneath her half unzipped jacket was not a coincidence. “Isn’t that part of being...how did you put it… _’so posh’_?”

Lena snorted. “Honestly, I’ve no idea. Not exactly my thing, you know.”

“A shame, really.” She’d expected Amélie to keep teasing, but the other woman seemed entirely sincere. “You took to it very well last night.”

Lena’s brows knit as her head tilted. “What, fancy dress and getting pissed on free booze?”

Amélie inclined her head. “You looked quite handsome. It was...very different from how I had seen you before.”

“I could say the same,” Lena confessed before she finished her cocoa. “I mean, you’re pretty, luv. I’d have to be _blind_ not to notice. But that dress...seein’ you just out for an evening...you were _gorgeous_.”

Amélie’s cheeks were touched with a purplish blush, but her smile twisted into a smirk. “I should hope so - that was a six thousand Euro dress.”

_“Six thousand?!”_

“Mm. A bargain, really. I was quite happy to find it at the boutique.”

Lena didn’t bother to disguise her goggling. “See - this is what I mean. What sort of difference does six thousand make, when I spent a hundred forty flat out on what I wore last night?”

“An original,” Amélie argued as she sat back up and took an interest. “The designer’s personal handiwork, in the material and quality they intended. Not just a dress - a work of art.”

“Luv, you could wear a sack from IKEA and you’d be a work of art - don’t need six grand for that.” Lena shook her head. “It’s cliche, but money doesn’t buy everything - and having more doesn’t mean you’ll get it, either.”

Amélie gave a noncommital little hum. “Perhaps. But it certainly makes things easier.”

“There’s got to be somewhere - even _here_ \- where that doesn’t get you anywhere.”

Amélie seemed to make a show of thinking it over. “There is a restaurant in Paris. The chef and owner had some kind of dispute with my family many years ago. He made it clear that regardless of how much we could pay, we would never be served there.”

Lena grinned. “Well, now I want to go have dinner there just to say that I did. Maybe I could take a picture of the menu for you! Doesn’t take too long to get to Paris by train from here, right?”

“I would try to make a reservation now,” Amélie advised with a sly grin. “As I understand it, they are booked six months out, and you will want to save your pennies. The _degustation_ menu is three hundred euro.”

Lena could almost feel her jaw hitting the ground. “...on second thought maybe I’ll just stay and enjoy the resort.”

There as a long moment of silence before they both began to laugh, Amélie lower, softer chuckles blending into a nice harmony with Lena’s higher tones, until Lena puffed out her cheeks and took another deep breath, slapping her palm against the wood. “Whoo. Think I needed that!”

“Perhaps we both did,” Amélie agreed before she unfolded her legs and rose to her feet. “But I think I would like to head inside and change.”

“Sure.” Lena scooted back before she stood up. “Suppose you’re sharing a place with Gabe and the rest?”

Amélie shook her head with surprising fierceness. “Absolutely _not_. Sombra snores like a horse.”

“I honestly cannot tell if that was a joke or not.”

“All too real,” Amélie assured her with a grimace. “But fortunately I have access to a private chalet.”

Lena snorted as she opened the door to let Amélie go inside. “Oh, of course y’do. Should have seen that one coming!”

“Perhaps you should have,” Amélie agreed as she stepped inside, waiting for Lena to follow before she continued to the stairs. “But...you are welcome to join me, if you like.”

Lena thought about it for all of a second before she nodded her agreement.

* * *

The private chalet wasn’t laid out much differently than the one she was staying in with Angela, Mei, and Winston. Except for the fact that it was all currently for the use of one person, and as a result had a few extra amenities installed.

“Is that a hot tub out there?”

“How else should one relax after a day on the slopes?”

Lena shook her head with a wistful sigh. “Makes me wish I’d brought a swimsuit. Don’t suppose you could have one delivered with all those fancy connections of yours?”

“I could,” Amélie said as she hung her helmet up and unwound the scarf from around her neck. “But if I am trying to relax, I do not see the point in wearing one.”

Lena’s mouth felt very, very dry all of the sudden as her mind filled in what that might look like. “What if someone else was going to join you in it?”

Those golden yellow eyes _smouldered_ as she undid the zip on her jacket, revealing the black tank top she was wearing beneath. “ _Especially_ if someone is going to join me in it.”

Before Lena could get herself in any more trouble Amélie had the jacket hung up and was removing her snow boots. “I believe I will slip into something more comfortable, for now. Would you care for some wine?”

“Seems the thing to do,” Lena admitted weakly.

“ _Bien._ You can put your coat in the closet.”

She stood there and fiddled with the straps of the accelerator as Amélie left, her footsteps gradually fading as she went upstairs to where Lena assumed there was an equally grand bedroom to go with the living area, then finally worked up the nerve to unhook the device and leave it sitting next to her as she shucked her boots and began to take off her outerwear.

 _Good thing I wore something under all this_ , she thought as she hung up the jacket, her snow pants going onto the next hangar. Admittedly she’d pulled on the leggings and a compression top for warmth more than anything else, but it would still do.

Pulling the accelerator back on, she made sure it was all snugged back into place before making her way into the living room and settling into an overstuffed chair by the fireplace.

She’d somehow missed Amélie coming back downstairs, the sound of her voice coming from the kitchen taking Lena a bit by surprise. “Comfortable?”

“Yeah, thanks.” It was...mostly true, she thought. Even if some of the furniture looked ridiculously expensive, it was all pretty rustic, with dark wood, plush, comfy fabric, and a few heavy fur throw rugs that she had a feeling were real, not reproductions.

Still, the warmth of the fire was nice, and after the cold and the snow it _was_ pretty easy to get relaxed as she watched the wood crackle and pop.

“Got any food to go with that wine? I think I’m a bit peckish.”

“Of course,” Amélie answered over the sound of a drawer being opened.

The sound of something being chopped eventually blended into the pop of a cork and the gurgle of liquid into a glass, and Lena found her eyelids growing a bit heavy as she sank into the chair.

 _Guess I_ could _get used to this, in the right company._

Still. Was Amélie really that ‘right company’? That answer was still a bit fuzzy.

_Do we really have a ‘thing’?_

_I didn’t think we had a Thing._

_We just…are._

The sound of footsteps pulled her from that train of thought, and Lena was proud of herself for not swallowing her tongue as she got a fresh look at her hostess.

Gone were the snow pants and tank top, replaced by a shimmering purple silk robe that had been embroidered with blue and gold thread, a matching sash belted around her waist to keep it closed.

Amélie’s hair was now down and loose, apparently having been brushed back to glossy sleekness after a morning beneath her helmet and ski cap, most of it cascading down her back except for the shorter locks that framed her face, and between her bare feet (with, Lena noticed, nail polish that complimented the robe) the earlier discussion, it wasn’t hard to figure out that Amélie hadn’t put anything on beneath.

There were two glasses of rich looking red wine on the tray she carried, and a wooden board laden with what looked like crackers, sausage, and several cheeses.

“You don’t do anything by halves, do you?”

Amélie just smiled as she collected her wine glass and sat down on the couch, drawing her legs up beneath her. “Anything worth doing is worth doing well, _chérie._ ”

Lena was very thankful she hadn’t taken a sip before she heard that.

The wine had a very full, fruity flavor that went well with the nutty cheese and thinly sliced meat, and they ate in relative silence, just the sounds of the fire and appreciation of the food until their glasses (and the bottle) were empty and the tray had been cleared.

“Startin’ to feel like you could throw me into the snow and I wouldn’t even care,” Lena said with a lazy smile. “I’m stuffed!”

Amélie tutted in mock disappointment. “If you wish, but even I think the hot tub would be much more comfortable.”

“Well,” Lena stretched, feeling the pops and cracks as she put her arms over her head. “When you put it like _that_.”

She’d almost forgotten their earlier conversation when Amélie pointed to her chest. “Is the...device...submersible?”

“Mm?” Lena looked down and tapped the fairing of the Accelerator, then blinked as her brain caught back up through the haze of warmth and wine. “Oh! Well, sort of, but...long as it’s nearby, I’ll be fine.”

Amélie nodded as she stood. “Good.” She turned to head for the door that lead to the hot tub. “This has been an enjoyable day. I would be very disappointed if you were to disappear.”

Before Lena could quite process that in her half pissed state, Amélie paused at the threshold, letting the robe fall to the floor before she turned her head to look back at where Lena was goggling at her.

“Don’t keep me waiting, _chérie_.”

Lena swallowed hard as she watched the door swing shut, then found herself staring at her feet as she nervously toyed with the buckles on her harness.

She hadn’t really tried to date after things had ended with Emily. If anything, that had hammered home that the life she was leading wasn’t really conducive to such things. Normally she’d be jumping at the chance to get undressed for a nice soak with a girl - especially one who looked like _that_ \- but as she’d said the night before, they had a _lot_ between them.

_Still. I did say we should try to start over._

Unbidden, Sombra’s words came to mind again.

“ _You two always seem to have that...thing going on.”_

“Yeah,” Lena finally murmured to herself as she started to undress. “Maybe we do.”

The cold air hit as she stepped through the door, the bracing wind sobering her up a bit as she walked to the tub, the accelerator dangling from her hand.

Amélie was resting against what Lena thought of the ‘back’ of the tub, one arm hanging casually over the side while the bubbling and steaming water just barely covered the top of her breasts.

Her eyes were half closed and for a moment Lena thought the warmth, food, and wine had combined to lull her into a nap, but as she got closer she could see the glitter of interest in Amélie’s eyes as they followed her across the room.

After a quick look around she decided to leave the accelerator on a hook next to several towels, hoping the heat and the steam would help to hide her flush as she swung her legs over the side of the tub and slid down into the water across from her hostess.

 _Just two birds sittin’ in a hot tub,_ Lena thought ruefully, _five feet apart because I’m very, very gay._

Amélie’s expression was full of satisfaction as she stretched out, their legs brushing against each other. “There you are.”

“Sure am,” Lena observed as she let herself sink down a bit, the tub’s jets massaging the lingering stiffness out of her muscles. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, honestly. This feels brilliant.”

“One of the best ways to relax,” Amélie agreed. “I may not feel the cold as I once did, but that does not mean I do not appreciate the warmth.”

Their legs bumped again, and it wasn’t hard for Lena to figure out that it wasn’t an accident.

“Something I’ve sort of been meaning to ask you,” Lena finally said after a few minutes of quiet soaking.

“Mm? Go on.”

She tried to gather her thoughts, hesitated, and finally pushed herself up just a bit in the water so she was sitting up properly. “The other night, I ended up talkin’ to Sombra. Something she said stuck with me.”

Amélie’s brow rose, silently inviting her to continue.

“Have we…” Lena wet her lips again, unable to find a better way to put it. “Have we got a _thing?”_

To her relief, Amélie didn’t dismiss or question the idea. “I suppose that is a way to describe it,” she said thoughtfully, her fingers tapping the side of the tub. She pushed herself up so she could lean forward, the edge of her teeth dragging along her lower lip. “Would you _like_ to have a…’thing’...with me, Lena?”

It felt like her ribcage that suddenly become two sizes two tight as Amélie came closer, her lungs struggling to expand while her heart pounded madly. “I wasn’t kidding when I said there’s a lot between us,” she whispered as their eyes met.

“There is,” Amélie agreed in an equally hushed voice, the soft tones of her accent turning it into something that raced straight up Lena’s spine. “But it also means we have grown to know each other very well. So, what do _you_ want, _chérie?”_

Lena’s body moved without a conscious thought, one arm wrapping around Amélie’s waist while the other slid through damp hair, pulling her almost into her lap as they kissed. Sloppy, messy, wet, and slippery. They were very opposite of posh as they pressed against each other, breaking away for a few moments, making eye contact, and back to each other again, eventually shifting around so Amélie was on her side against the corner of the tub while Lena pinned her there, their hands exploring and squeezing, occasionally floating closer or pushed back by the flow of water.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Lena finally gasped as the haze of lust faded enough for her to think. “We’ve got a thing, and whatever it is, I want it.”

Amélie nodded as she leaned in, turning her head to lightly tease her lips with her tongue. “Then perhaps we should discuss this more upstairs.”

Lena leaned in and sank her teeth into the curve of Amélie’s neck, sucking at the soft wet skin until she’d drawn a hungry groan from her. “You know, I really think we should.”

* * *

The bedroom had been as posh as Lena had expected, with thick red rugs, wide windows that looked out on the mountain range, and a massive bed that had been covered in elegant purple silk sheets and a half dozen pillows before they’d very thoroughly messed it up.

Amélie was still dozing, fingers lightly wrapped around her wrist, but something had pulled Lena from her quite satisfied sleep, and she couldn’t quite figure out what.

She finally heard a faint high pitched beeping sound, and realized what it must be as she gently extracted herself from the bed, put a little kiss on Amélie’s forehead, and grabbed the accelerator from where she’d dropped it by the bed.

The beeping grew louder as she turned down the stairs and into the living room, and when she walked over to the fireplace she could see the screen of her phone shining atop the pile of her clothes, announcing an urgent message.  


**ANGELA**

_16:30_

 

_Lena, we’re almost done for the day. Would you like to join us for dinner?_

 

_17:15_

 

_Did you lose your phone on the slopes? Your board is gone and you aren’t here._

 

_18:49_

 

_Lena, according to Gabriel no one has seen you or Widowmaker since this morning. What has happened?!_

 

**_! 19:40 !_ **

**_LENA WHAT DID YOU DO_ **

 

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the last one, but she couldn’t help her grin as she finally tapped out a reply.

 

_19:55_

 

_I was a perfect gentleman thank you very much._

_Also tell Hana that Amélie is pretty sure Sombra owes her some money._

 

_Oh thank god you’re both alive._

 

_Alive and VERY well. ;)_

 

_I will politely insist I not hear details, but I am glad to hear it._

_You two had started to worry us._

Lena chuckled as she picked up the rest of her clothes and bundled them under one arm, typing with one hand as she made her way back up the stairs.

_I’ll tell you as little or as much as anyone wants tomorrow._

_But don’t worry, luv. I think things are going to be just fine._

She switched her phone to silent, put the entire pile and the accelerator on some kind of fancy looking chair by the window, and grabbed the quilt from the floor as she got back into bed, dragging it up over them both before she took the opportunity to snuggle back in as the big spoon.

Amélie groaned softly as she felt the warmth, pressing back into the contact. “Lena…?”

“Shh,” she murmured with a smile at Amélie’s sleep fogged voice. “Nothin’ to worry about.”

“ _Bien,_ ” Amélie declared sleepily, linking their arms together again before she drifted back off.

Lena left gentle kisses on her shoulder as she listened to her breathing deepen, her own eyelids feeling heavier and heavier until they’d finally slipped closed.

 _Yeah_ , she thought just before she fell back into sleep. _I think this ‘thing’ is going to be just fine._

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was commissioned by Rhitta, who asked for "maybe a little bit of angst and a lot of fluff." Glad to have delivered! Thank you again!


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